


"No, We Aren't Calling Ourselves the Dream Team."

by miidniight



Series: The World as We Know It [3]
Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Banter, Brothers, Family Dynamics, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Magic, Play Fighting, Sparring, Weapons, kind of?, yeah some of the game mechanics are just straight up magic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-01
Updated: 2020-12-17
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:15:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27807406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miidniight/pseuds/miidniight
Summary: They promised that it would always be the three of them, no matter what life threw their way.(Or the Dream Team's backstories in the AU I'm working on.)
Relationships: Clay | Dream & Darryl Noveschosch, Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Darryl Noveschosch & Sapnap, GeorgeNotFound & Darryl Noveschosch, GeorgeNotFound & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), No Romantic Relationship(s)
Series: The World as We Know It [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2081532
Comments: 4
Kudos: 98





	1. You Are More Than Just a―DREAM!

**Author's Note:**

> enjoy :)

Dream was patient.

That, perhaps, was his greatest strength in comparison to his brothers. It wasn’t that he was faster or that he was (not to brag) leagues ahead of them in combat, it was that he could sit and wait longer than either of them could ever hope to.

For instance, as he relaxed up in a tree grinning, Sapnap and George moved around the forest, the former complaining while the latter shushed him with an edge of frustration in his voice.

“He’ll hear us if you don’t shut up, Sapnap,” George hissed in a low voice, as he pushed through a bush not too far from where Dream was perched. His goggles were pulled down over his eyes, the usual baby blue of his sweatshirt was replaced by a black t-shirt as George made any attempts to take the advantage from Dream.

“‘He’ll hear us if you don’t shut up, Sapnap’,” Sapnap mocked back, pushing through noisily after him, his scowl framed by curtains of black hair. A white tie held it back from his eyes, but it fell stubbornly forward. He had shed his fire over-shirt to only his (also black) undershirt beneath, a wooden training sword grasped firmly in one hand. “We can beat him together.”

“Yeah but that was before he got his new magic trick.” There was a bitterness in George’s voice that made a small ping of pain shoot through Dream’s heart momentarily. When he had shown everyone, George had been nothing but smiles and congratulations.

George had always been the better actor.

Sapnap scoffed, giving a practice swing with the dull weapon in his hand through the air. “I have a magic trick too.”

“Oh yeah. What are you going to do Sapnap, light your fingers up like candles?”

“Hey,” Sapnap responded, a note of hurt present in his voice, “I’ve gotten better. I’m up to a whole finger now.”

They passed by his tree, still chattering away, not noticing the slow movement of Dream pulling his mask down and his hood up. Slowly and silently, he swung himself off the branch, landing in a crouch on the ground behind them with barely a noise. There was, however, a noise.

Dream may have been better, but his brothers were still good.

George whirled suddenly, throwing something (did George seriously just chuck a rock at his head?) he was holding towards Dream, who dodged it easily in one smooth motion. As he stood, he reached one hand back, plunging it into the place between worlds - The Void, as he called it - to find the axe he had stashed there a little while before.

No one was really able to explain how he did what he did. Not even Bad, and Bad had been around longer than Dream could even conceptualize. One day he had been playing catch with Sap, tossing a ball back and forth when it just disappeared. There was no blip, no tear in the fabric of the universe - it was just there and then it was gone. Later, when Dream went to reach for his food at dinner, his hand had seemingly plunged into the table before he yanked it back out, ball in hand. They had yet to test whether or not Dream himself could go into The Void, but it was an idea that sat almost constantly in the back of his mind. 

Closing his hand around the axe’s handle, Dream pulled it out and swung it forward just in time to catch Sapnap’s strike. He pushed back against the sword valiantly, struggling to keep it from falling any closer to him. Sapnap had always been stronger, always able to overpower Dream if he wanted. 

That was why Dream let him, pulling back and dashing under the sweep of the wooden blade like he was playing limbo. He sidestepped quickly away from George’s sudden swipe with his own sword, swatting away the second hit that came from Sapnap as he slid a safe distance away gracefully.

“Do you really have to wear that stupid thing when we spar, Dream?” George asked, a fond sort of exasperation bleeding through his tone.

Dream grinned beneath his mask, not that they could see it. What he wore had originally been a joke. The three of them had been messing around with clay (both making ridiculous creations as well as throwing the unhardened stuff at each other like gross, sticky snowballs) when Dream had simply flattened out a piece and threw it in the oven. When it came out, slightly misshapen and a rusty orange, Dream had just painted a simple smile and two eyes on it before attaching a ribbon before tying it around his face.

Bad had helped him enchant it so it was see through only from his direction, and Dream had grabbed it before heading off into the woods near their house to train.

“Oh come on,” he began, the amusement he was feeling making the words light and happy, “It looks cool. Plus, imagine how hilarious it’ll be when I beat someone and all they see is a smiley face hovering above them.”

“Oh my God, an orange smiley face, so scary,” Sapnap said with a laugh, swinging his sword idly. Dream watched the movement warily from the corner of his eye, splitting his attention between both of his brothers. 

It was likely that one would make a move to try and get an opening for the other. Even at their ages (George being fourteen, Dream being twelve, and Sapnap being ten) they worked like a machine no matter who was on each other’s side. Something about combat flipped a switch in their brains as if they were suddenly connected, able to match even the most minute of changes and adapt to plan changes without ever having to say a word.

Dream saw Sapnap take a step forward and George’s foot raised to match the movement. He shifted his stance and readied his axe, prepared to take everything they threw at him with twin smiles painted across his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dream's mask is originally orange, once we get to the main plot of my AU he'll have his typical white one


	2. Oh George~

To absolutely no surprise of George, Dream won.

Dream _always_ won.

At this point it was an instinct to roll his eyes and drop his sword as he looked up to where his younger brother stood holding an axe to George’s neck as he stood over him. Both of their chests were heaving, and George took satisfaction that, at least this time, he wasn’t the only one out of breath when it was all said and done.

“You and your stupid mask,” George said with a smile and a shake of his head. Dream pulled back with a small laugh (nothing like the wheezes he was prone to emmitting, unfortunately), twirling his weapon with a fancy movement that George just knew he had practiced for hours.

“Don’t insult the mask,” Dream protested without any trace of offense in his voice. He leant down slightly to offer George a hand up. Taking it, George tugged himself up, slightly surprised with how firm Dream’s grasp had gotten. “I’m trying to brand myself.”

George leveled him with a look that clearly expressed how much of an idiot he thought his brother was. “Dream, you’re twelve.”

“Yeah, and? Bad’s getting us ready for _something_ , isn’t he? Why else would we spend so much time training and sparring.”

At that, George went quiet.

It was a thought that had passed through his own mind more than once. Collectively, they were barely into the double digit ages. Sapnap had turned ten quite literally days ago, and yet their entire lives it had always been fight fight fight. George had been five the first time he picked up a weapon. It had been nothing more than a silly little toy, barely able to bruise Bad’s shins when George smacked him with it (nothing quite like slapping your caretaker with a wooden stick when he wouldn’t give you a second muffin), but a weapon nonetheless. 

Dream pulled his mask up to rest on top of his damp blonde mop. Sometime during the fight, the green hood had fallen off of his head, which was probably for the better. That hoodie was much better off not soaking in whatever sweat Dream had coating his hair.

Large green eyes looked at George above round, freckled cheeks. There was an innocence and naivety sparkling there that betrayed how young Dream was - how young all of them were.

It was easy for George to forget that he was only fourteen, barely into his teenage years and scarcely older than a decade. Most of the time, it felt like the three of them against the world. Nothing could ever harm the “Dream Team” as Dream himself had dubbed their trio (George and Sapnap refused to call themselves that).

But then Bad showed up to clean any wounds they had and scolded them when they cursed, and George remembered - they were just kids. All of them were just kids, and reality was a lot harsher than wooden sword fights in the thicket of trees behind their house.

“-rge! Hey, George!”

George snapped himself out of his thoughts, blinking a few times as he focused on Dream’s slightly concerned gaze.

“You’ve been staring at me for a while, are you g-”

Sapnap came barreling out of a nearby bush. There were small twigs and leaves poking out of his hair and mud (at least George hoped to God that was just mud) streaked across his face. A shocked look was blowing his dark eyes wide.

“I can’t believe you pushed me down the hill,” Sapnap whispered in disbelief at Dream. “Me. Your youngest and favorite brother.”

George gave what felt like his millionth eyeroll of the day. “Sapnap, you aren’t anyone’s favorite brother.” He ignored the affronted noises of Sap stuttering as he tugged his goggles up and let them rest ever so slightly above his hairline. Glancing up, George squinted to see through the canopy of leaves above them, noticing the pinkish tinge draped across the sky. “We should head home, sun’s setting.”

Dream gave a wicked grin, already yanking his stupid face covering back down. “I’ll race you guys. Last one there has to give up their muffin.”

George didn’t even bother waiting to see whether Sapnap agreed before dashing off. He heard the other two yell after him, but George just laughed and pushed his legs faster. Speed was, perhaps, one of the few things Dream had yet to completely overtake George at. He still held the smallest of edges over his younger brother and he would use whatever advantage he could take.

Bad’s muffins were not something he wanted to lose.

From behind him, there was a sudden guttural scream and the sound of two bodies hitting the ground. George didn’t turn as he heard Sapnap shout, “If I don’t get a muffin you don’t either!”

“Sapnap you idiot! Why didn’t you tackle George?”

“Ha!” George called back as he risked a glance over his shoulder. He found Dream struggling to push Sapnap off from where he was desperately clinging to the older’s waist. They both knew that Sapnap was dead weight when he wanted to be, more than used to his habit of dropping like lead in water if it meant taking someone else down with him. “Suck it, you idi-”

With an ‘oomph’, George ran into something solid and stumbled backwards. One foot catching on the other, he tripped and landed on his bottom, goggles slipping off of his head to fall on the grass next to him. 

He already knew what he was going to see and grabbed his goggles with a disappointed sigh before daring to slowly send his gaze upward. The figure donned in dark clothing edged in red was raising their arms to cross them over their chest, covering the cheery yellow apron that read ‘Muffinhead’ in thin cursive script.

Bad leaned down, a disapproving frown twisting his void black face into something that would have been absolutely terrifying if it weren’t for the high voice that admonished George with an exclamation of, “Language!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you're all having a good day, make sure to drink some water!


	3. And Sapnap

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> enjoy :D!

Sapnap would admit, he had never been happier to hear the godforsaken word fall from Bad’s lips before. It happened often enough (Bad was liberal in its usage, Sapnap had said the word _piss_ one time for gods’ sakes and been scolded) that for the most part all Sapnap usually felt was a mild frustration. 

But gods, all he could feel was pure joy as George sat on his butt, looking surprised as a peeved Bad shook his head. “Really guys,” their caretaker began, brows furrowed over pupiless white eyes, “Is it so difficult to watch what you say?”

“I said _suck_ -”

“ _Language!_ ”

“How is that language worthy?” George all but bellowed back, a bewildered annoyance twisting his mouth into half of a frown.

Sapnap held in a snicker as Bad held out a hand to help George up. His older brother grasped it gratefully, letting out a small ‘oomph’ as he always did at the strength Bad’s slender frame didn’t look like it held. “Because I said so. No muffins for you if you want to yell at me about it.”

Confusion pulled George’s jaw down and blew his eyes wide before it gave way to complete and utter devastation. Sapnap couldn’t help but lose whatever control he had at the absolutely destroyed expression George wore - as if someone had killed his child rather than just having his muffin taken away for the night. Bad’s muffins were little baked miracles, so having to go without was rather akin to losing your firstborn.

Sapnap’s chuckles quieted quickly upon seeing the look Bad was levelling him with. “If you want to laugh you don’t need one either, huh?”

Face falling, Sapnap flicked his gaze away, crossing his arms tightly against his chest. He could almost feel Dream’s smirk underneath the clay mask, and Sapnap threw a nasty glare his way, feeling a little smug at the way his brother edged away slightly and shifted into a steadier, more balanced stance, as if expecting Sapnap to tackle him again.

It felt good to be reminded that it wasn’t just George and Dream that belonged, he was just as strong, if not stronger (fire magic, however little control Sapnap had over it, was not something to be trifled with), as them. Sometimes it felt like he was pushed to the side when Dream and George orbited each other, caught up in the gravity of their own competition.

It didn’t matter that he and Dream had been together for as long as Sapnap could remember, it was always Dream and George. And Sapnap.

And Sapnap.

“C’mon Sap,” Dream bumped him with his shoulder, not lightly but not particularly violently either, “Gotta clean up for dinner.”

Sapnap blinked out of his thoughts to see Bad looking at the pair of them expectantly from the doorway and George turning a corner until he was just out of sight, goggles already tugged off of his head. Faking a small laugh (he had to pretend he didn’t feel alone, obviously), Sapnap pushed a hand through his sweaty hair and dashed into the house.

Everything smelled like sugar, chocolate, and blueberries - the result of years upon years of muffins being baked nearly every night. The house felt almost, but not quite, stuffy with heat billowing off of the fireplace in the main room. Brightly colored rugs were spread across the wooden floor, Bad’s attempt to bring color into the otherwise dark wooded home. George was splayed on the biggest couch, goggles dangling loosely in the hand he threw across the arm of the furniture. For a moment, Sapnap debated about whether or not he could snatch them away, but the reproachful glance Bad sent him (Sapnap swore he could read minds) had him thinking twice. 

“George can you clean up before sitting on the couch?” Bad asked gently, placing a kind hand in George’s hair. Much like a cat, George pressed back into the gesture for the smallest of seconds before groaning and standing up, stretching his arms high above his head as he did so.

As Bad moved past into the hallway that led to the kitchen, he called, “Dream, take the mask off! And Sapnap go wash your headband!”

Despite the frantic energy that had filled the three boys just minutes prior, the movement through their home was soft, slow, and comfortable in a way that Sapnap would hunger for years from now.

Dinner was a quiet affair. The silence was partially due to the fact that half of them were still mourning the loss of their muffins, but mostly because they were all exhausted. Chasing and fighting Dream was always a tiring event no matter how long it lasted. Sapnap poked sleepily at the soup in his bowl, entertaining himself by spinning the meat around in the broth. Bad nudged him tenderly, giving him a gesture that clearly meant ‘Eat’ paired with a smile. With a yawn, Sapnap lifted a spoonful up to his mouth, chewing mindlessly.

He gazed longingly at the chocolate chip muffin Dream was preparing to break pieces off of. Black eyes flicked up to meet Dream’s green ones before looking away quickly. Sapnap wasn’t in the mood to see Dream brag about getting a treat he and George couldn’t. His brain was too sluggish and slow to be able to deal with anything properly (he was ten for gods’ sakes, he was not about to cry over a _muffin_ ).

Feeling a kick under the table, Sapnap’s head snapped up, a frown already tugging at his features until he saw what it was Dream was offering him. A chunk of muffin was in his brother’s outstretched hand, and an affectionate grin graced his face. Snorting, Sapnap took it with a silent thank you that he knew Dream had received from the eyeroll that followed. Another chunk was soon broken off and handed to George, who simply smiled that stupid smile that made Dream laugh a little wheeze.

Maybe Sapnap felt left out sometimes, but all it took was a muffin to remind him that the Dream Team (gods they needed a better name) was three.

And it always would be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hiya guys!! make sure you eat something and drink some water :) <3


End file.
